Time
by Multigraincheerios
Summary: They said he needed time. What he really needed was a simple "Hello."
1. Chapter 1

Ch 1: Time

"Time." They would all say. "All you need is time." "Give it time." "You'll feel better in time." The thing about time though, is that it is a slow thing. You don't want to wait to feel better. You want to feel better right now. You don't want to feel the grief anymore. You don't want to watch your mother burst into tears whenever she picks up a sweater or cooks a meal that reminds her of him. You don't want to see your father silently weeping while de-gnoming the yard, doing it when he's alone because he wants to appear strong for the family. You don't want to see your little sister hole up in her room for days on end, not coming out. You yourself don't want to be reminded constantly of what you have lost. You want it to go away. You want all the grief, the tears, the pain, the numbness, you want it all gone. You want to feel normal again. You want to be happy. You want to move on. You want to remember with happiness, not sadness.

It had been two years since his brother had been murdered. 2 years since the battle of Hogwarts. 2 years since his world as he had known it had fallen apart and had to be put together again, like a puzzle where the pieces didn't quite fit. Time was what everybody said George Weasley needed. Time to get over it. Time to figure things out. How to run a business that had once been run together, now had to be run by a single person. How to suddenly go from having a best friend to not having a best friend. It was like adapting to not having his other ear. It was difficult, but he'd have to get used to it. So far? No luck. He was still waiting for the moment when it would get easier. It hadn't happened yet.

George had done it all after Fred's funeral. He had helped plan the fucking affair, he had consoled Fred's girlfriend, and after everything was said and done, he put Ron in charge of the shop on a temporary basis and had traveled. Went across Europe: France, Spain, Switzerland, Germany, he even made his way to Turkey. Each country he got more and more drunk. The alcohol let him not care so much. It allowed him to take the edge off a bit. That had lasted for a little bit.

Then came the sleeping around. When he got back to England, it had been girl after girl for about a month. Nothing serious ever came out of the one night stands, but just something to help with the loneliness at night. Something to not make his thoughts the most important thing. Something to just to take his mind away from the pain, that time was supposed to heal. Time. What bullshit.

All of that had been a year and a half ago. Things had gotten minimally better. The drinking had somewhat ceased. The sleeping around had all but ended after he got a stern talking to from Ginny and now he was throwing himself into work. If he couldn't make the pain go away somehow, damn, he'd make Fred proud of him by their shop. He'd make it the best damn joke shop in all of the United Kingdom. He'd put his grief, anger, sadness, confusion, loss and everything else into this damn shop. This damn shop was all that was holding him together anymore. Just barely.  
So he did. He renovated, came up with new ideas, out with new products, improved advertising, improved profit, yet, this didn't help all that much either. It made him feel a bit better, yes, but not enough to feel completely okay with his missing half.

A simple ding from the door before closing time was all it took. He was sitting over a bunch of paperwork, figuring out something or another, he was going to look up and tell them to get out of the shop and that iw as closed, could they not read? However, when he did, he couldn't. It wasn't time that would eventually help George Weasley feel better, it was a simple "Hello."


	2. Hello

Hello

Author's Note: This is going to be short, I'm a bit doped up on Nyquil but wanted to write!

The bell jangled over the door, indicating somebody had stepped in. He could have swore he turned the sign to close. The clock on the wall behind the counter read "8:00 p.m." and that's when they closed down. So why the hell was this person coming in? Looking up, he was about to say "go away" and something along the lines of "Can't you read?" but was cut short by a single word "Hello."

Standing there was a young woman, the greeting she had uttered did not sound like anybody from the United Kingdom. Didn't sound like a northern accent, a southern one, or any other European one he had heard of. It sounded…American? Maybe. She wasn't anything spectacular to look at. Truth be told he had seen more attractive women during his travels. However, it was the way her dark hair stood out against her bright blue pea coat, her skin was pale, freckles dotting her nose and cheeks. She was short, only coming up to about his shoulders. If you looked close enough, you could see a small, white line just barely visible above the top of her coat, along her neck. A scar maybe?

The young woman noticed him staring and shifted uncomfortably. "Hello, I know the sign says close, but you're the only store with the light on, and I was just wondering if you could tell me where the Leaky Cauldron is? As you can probably tell, I'm not from around here and I'm a bit lost." She said, offering him a small smile as she gave a small nod.

George simply nodded. "Of course. Actually, you're headed the wrong way. If you take a left when you walk out of the shop and go all the way back down the alley, it'll be on your right. Can't miss the giant cauldron sign. I'm Geroge Weasley by the way." He said.

"I guessed your last name was Weasley. Laurel McLaughlin." She said, reaching out her hand to shake his quickly. "Nice to meet you. Well…thanks. I appreciate it." She said, turning around to leave.

George watched her for a moment. "Wait, why don't I walk you down there? The alley can get a bit weird at night, you know, all those wizards and things getting drunk and walking around, causing a ruckus. Just let me grab my coat." He standing up, he glanced down at the parchment and sighed. He'd finish it tomorrow. Like he always did. Reaching for the black coat, he pulled it on, before walking towards her. "let's go, yeah?" he asked with a smile.

Laurel simply gave a small smie in return. "Thank you, that's very nice of you." She said, walking through the door as he opened it for her.

This would be the start of something. Neither of them knew it yet. It had all started with a simple hello.


	3. C'est la vie

C'est la vie.

Dating had never been for Laurel. She had always been absorbed in her books or in schoolwork. She didn't have her first boyfriend until she was about 18 or so. They had dated for a year or so. Things had never really gone anywhere, and once Laurel had started her schooling for being a healer, she broke up with the young man. That had been that. From then on, she had been single, men had just never interested her. They had either been too forward, too shy, too this, too that. Laurel was picky. She knew what she wanted or maybe that was the problem. Maybe she thought she did, but she really didn't? Maybe Laurel was afraid of falling too hard or too fast. That was just Laurel.

Yet somehow George had stayed around. A few months had passed since their initial meeting. She had stopped in the shop the day after she had asked for directions and the rest had just kind of happened. They saw each other a few times a week. He was persisting on showing her some of his favorite spots, little dives, pubs in London that had the best whiskey, where the best fish and chip shops were and in return she told him about where she grew up, her family, how her father worked in the Ministry of Magic over in America and how school was different there versus when he had went. Laurel had found a friend in George Weasley, he was an unlikely friend, but a friend nonetheless. It was an interesting friendship and Laurel was glad she had it.

The night was still young, the pub was crowded, the firewhiskey was pouring and Laurel was feeling alright. "George, I got asked out today." She said simply, looking at him over the glass she was sipping at. The liquor burned the back of her throat as she took it down.

"You got asked out? Are you kidding me? Did you finally find a bloke who fits all your criteria?"

"I don't know, he seems…nice."

"Laurel, I've told you plenty of times. You attract plenty of attention. You're...foreign-"

"I'm American. That's not exactly exotic."

"Well, you're not from around here and you haven't gone to school with half of these people who you see daily for years, so you're new, men do want to ask you out. You just never look at any of them because you're too busy with work and school work." George said. "Plus you're intimidating as fuck if you haven't slept or haven't had your coffee."

"I am not!"

"Bullshit you aren't. What about a few weeks ago when I came to bring you breakfast when you weren't feeling good? I came up to the door and you said something about not having coffee yet and to bugger off. That was not nice."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. Maybe I'm just not ready to see anybody or even entertain the idea of going on a date." Laurel decided with a shrug. "Men are confusing and relationships just hurt people. You get attatched and then they'll leave eventually like everyone does and you're left by yourself again. Wondering what you did."

George just watched her, his brow raised, apparently Laurel got emotional or what have you after the liquor had set in. "Do you want come chips?" he asked, reaching over and pushing the basket of fries over into her side of the table.

"No, not really." She picked one up and ate it anyway. "George, can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?"

"You told me you had 6 siblings, right? I've met Ron and Ginny. Bill is married to Fleur, Charlie works with Dragons, and you told me about Percy. Who's the sixth one then?" she asked. "I've been thinking about it and you've only ever mentioned five of them."

The look on George's face changed instantly. He went from looking relaxed and content to looking like somebody had thrown a punch to his stomach. A pained expression played on his face with a hint of surprise. You could tell he was obviously not expecting Laurel to bring up Fred. He had never mentioned Fred. Why would he? It was too painful. It was easier to not talk about it. Didn't make it any easier, but it was easier than talking about it. "Um…Fred….He's my twin, except, you know, he's gotta an ear." George said, what was he supposed to say? He knew Laurel would ask eventually, but he was hoping by then he would have come up with some sort of story. "He lives in Australia."

She could tell it was a bad topic. "Come on. Let's go." Reaching for her purse, Laurel grabbed a random amount of money, plopped it on the table they were sitting at, stood up and stopped for just a moment. The room was spinning slightly, but that was okay. Her head felt a bit fuzzy. That was okay too. "Let's go for a walk." She went over to George and grabbed his hand, attempting to pull him up.

George rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the small smile creeping up on his lips. "Mmm, or we can stay in the pub where it's warm?" he suggested, pulling the young woman onto his lap easily. She made a small whining noise as he did so. "Contain your excitement." He said and laughed. "Come on, Laur. It's cold out. We can have a few more drinks, get you home off to bed, since you have work tomorrow and that'll be that. Yeah?"

"No, let's go on a walk or better yet, we can go back to your flat. You've got good food over there. Come on." Laurel managed to wiggle her way out of George's grasp and give him a small wink before she apparated off to his flat.

"That girl is bloody mental." He muttered, looking at the money she had left on the table, getting their bill, he counted out the correct amount, making sure to leave a tip for the bartender. Putting on his coat, he took his last swig of firewhiskey and apparated off as well. The flat was dark when he got there. "Laurel. What are you doing?" he called out.

"Marco!"

"Polo!"

"Marco."

"Polo."

"Lumos!" the light in the corner turned on. "There, that's better." Laurel said with a mischevious smile.

"What are you up to?"

"Oh, I don't know. I have something in mind." She said with a small smirk and a wink as she made her way over him. Maybe Laurel didn't need somebody with all her "requirements." Maybe what she needed was right in front of her.

This would turn out to be an interesting night indeed.


	4. Just Last the Year

Just Last the Year

She woke up before he did, the familiar scent of soap, aftershave and cologne were the first things that hit her. It was a comforting scent, the one that she often smelled when he went into hug her, leaned into too close to show her a picture in the prophet, things of that nature. The sun wasn't shining, but the birds were chirping outside the window, rather loudly, but that was probably due to the fact that Laurel was hungover and everything seemed too loud at the moment, even George's snoring was just a bit too loud. She didn't want to get out of the bed, George was warm, his body pressed up against hers, arm slung over her waist, other arm under his pillow, supporting his head, his breath was warm against her neck, even if he did snore. Laurel gave a small smile and turned over to look at him, making sure to be quiet in the turning process.

Now most people didn't look at George Weasley and think the word "tired", but looking at him now, even sleeping, Laurel could easily see he was tired, probably from the events of last night, but it was that kind of aging tired, in his sleep, he looked…older. The bags under his eyes indicated lack of sleep, probably lack of anything that was healthy for him, his diet over the past few years had been cigarettes, one night stands and liquor, lots of liquor and somewhere between all of that he managed to keep his shop up and running, while dealing with his grieving family. It was a lot to put on somebody's shoulders, a lot to put on somebody who was also grieving but was being self destructive in the process. He didn't mean to be, George just didn't know how to deal with these emotions, it was like a rollercoaster, up and down up and down.

After taking in the lines of his face, the small crease between his eyebrows from where he furrowed his brow, the way his lips were slightly dry, to the way his hands felt rough on her stomach, she took note of his breath when he was sleep, steady and peaceful, every once and a while he'd mutter something under his breath, but not very often. Laure rolled back over, carefully scooting herself out from under his arm and reaching down to grab her shirt off the ground, pulling it on, she slid on his boxers as well, another few moments, she was able to find her wand and with that, she quietly walked out of the room, letting George sleep, lord knows he needed it.

The kitchen was a mess when she entered it, pots and pans piled into the sink, most of them dirty nonetheless. Mugs filled with coffee and tea sat on the counter tops, some left dark rings when she picked up to put them in the sink. "George." She muttered under her breath. "Let's see what we have here." There wasn't much, she was able to make some eggs with toast and a piece of fruit, that was about it though. "There, that should do it." Putting the plate and 2 mugs of coffee onto the tray she had found under the sink. Walking back into the bedroom, she set it down, before kneeling on the bed. "George, wake up." She said quietly, leaning down and kissing his cheek. "Wake up, Wake up, wake up. I've made you breakfast."

"Mmmfffhh-Bacon?"

"No, no bacon, eggs and toast. It was all I could find, you need to go to the market it."

"Why do I have to wake up, lay back down." He muttered into the pillow as he rolled over.

"Geroge. I need to talk to you."

"Why do you sound so serious?

"Because I have something serious I need to talk to you about, George, seriously."

With a groan the redhead rolled over and propped himself up on his elbows. Upon seeing Laurel's face, his contorted into a look of concern. "You alright? Laur, what's up?"

"Well." Laurel reached over for her mug of coffee, it was in some quidditch mug that had a player on it who flew around. Kinda like a picture mug. "I um-" staring down at the brown liquid in the mug, she took a quick sip. "I'm going back to the States soon." She blurted out. It was rusehed and probably all sounded like mumbo jumbo, but it was enough to put a look of surprise on George's face. "What do you mean 'Back to the States.'?"

"I mean, I'm going back to States. My time studying here is almost and up and I don't know. George, where are we? What are we doing? Are we together, are we not together, are we fuck buddies? What? What are we?"

"Laur, I really don't know. There's too much going on right now to think of what we are, don't you reckon?"

"No, George, I don't." she muttered quietly.


End file.
